Hard as Metal, Cold as Ice
by Candaru
Summary: SEQUEL TO "FIGHT ME." ONESHOT, ANGST, NO SLASH. Zane might be back, but the Titanium ninja isn't the same as he used to be... in more ways than one. Rated T for safety (and the word "frick," I guess, if you're that sensitive). *Cover image drawn using base from { : / leo-base-maker . deviantart . com / art / Crying-Base-387168471 }


(A/N: As stated in the description, this is a oneshot sequel to Fight Me. It's set post-S4, which is important. And also as stated in the description, it's angst. You've been warned.)

—

The Destiny's Bounty is peaceful for once. The night air isn't as cold as it usually is— in fact, it's almost room temperature. The stars are bright, and light up the sky in brilliant patterns: hundreds, maybe thousands of them are visible tonight, resting in intricate layers. Crickets are chirping softly, hushing Wu and the others to sleep with a quiet lullaby.

And I am curled into a ball, most of my gi strewn across the room and my bedpost charred permanently with fist-shaped marks, crying my eyes out and holding my hands to my mouth to muffle the unbearable noises that I can't seem to make stop no matter how hard I try. The sobbing is painfully loud.

"FRICK!" I yell in reaction to the noise, forgetting for a moment the entire reason the noise upsets me in the first place. I curl my hand into a fist and slam it against the wall, as if acting angry will make all the pain go away.

 _"Frick, frick, frick…"_ I whisper quietly, trying something, _anything,_ to ease the pain. Counteractively, I slowly pull my hand back and brush it through my hair, making my entire body tremble more violently than it already is. I don't know why I make it worse for myself. But I can't help it. Making it worse it the only thing that makes it any better.

I run both my hands down my sides and clutch myself tightly, allowing the rest of my body to become aware of the heavy movements of my chest. I close my eyes, pushing more tears down my face. I don't bother to wipe them away; I just keep holding onto myself, feeling my own bare skin as if it will make the void go away. But it won't. It _can't._ Nothing can fix this.

"Nothing can fix this," I repeat to myself, out loud this time. My voice is shaky and strained— not that anyone is around to hear it anyway. The others are asleep, and I have no fear of my waking them up. They've slept through many similar meltdowns before. "N-nothing can fix this."

I choke loudly, and fail to stop the incomprehensible noises afterward. Time has stopped. _This will never end,_ I realize, more painfully than all the times I've realized it before. Tonight will end, but tomorrow will be the same. And the next day. And the next night. And the next—

I breathe in so deeply, so suddenly, that I don't have time to register the movement. I choke on my own breath for a moment and then fall into a coughing fit, letting the tightly compacted ball that is my body fall sideways on the hard wooden floor.

I wish I could fall asleep. Maybe if I were asleep, I could forget about this, at least for a little while.

 _Maybe if I were asleep, I could feel you again,_ some tiny voice whispers in my mind. I convulse unconsciously at the thought and feel a mild twinge of pain where I've accidentally scratched myself.

"I would do that," I whisper. "I— I w-would do that." I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I think what I _mean_ to say is, I'd forgotten how horrible it feels to go so long like this, and it's even worse this time around because now I know what it feels like to _not_ feel like this, and I would give anything to feel you again, and I can't live like this anymore, and I feel guilty and horrible inside for all of these emotions I've been having, and I should be glad that even any part of you is okay, but honestly, having half of your soul and none of your body here is almost worse than having nothing at all, because I've lost everything already and yet I still have something I'm scared to lose, and my stomach hurts every single time I see what you've become, and I _miss_ you, the real you, the you that understood us all better than we understood ourselves, and the you that would stay up with me all night talking about the most trivial things, and the you that cried your heart the night your father passed away, and the you that was human inside and out no matter what anybody else said, the real you, my brother, and I'd turn myself into a rag doll or a prisoner or a dead man in a heartbeat if it meant you would just please, _please,_ talk to me, touch me, tell me you remember me, give me some sign that I haven't really lost you, don't leave me like this anymore, I can't take it anymore, I can't, I can't take it, I can't take it, I can't…

Curled up on the floor in a puddle of my own tears, I finally exhaust myself to sleep.

—

(A/N: Yay for oneshots that I wrote really late at night and still liked well enough to post with minor editing! X'D Mental breakdowns are fun to write because it's fine if nothing makes sense, lol. Also, run-on sentences! Polysyndetons are great... *cough* Anyway, y'all have two people to blame for this: Order of the Aether for the horrible concept of Kai's suffering over Titanium Zane, and StoriesAreMagic for encouraging me to actually post this. I hate both of you. *Gives you both medals and a plate of cookies* Oh, and everyone who reads this, you all get cookies too... although I'll give you double cookies if you leave a review. *Wink wink nudge nudge* Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this!) (P.S. I claim "Silhouette" by Owl City as the unofficial official song of this fanfic. I MIGHT even make an animatic for it; if I do, I'll add it in the A/N here.)


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